The Panda

I've got this kid in my KG class who looks like a baby Panda bear. He's got the Kurdish pale skin and dark eyes and hair, but moreover, he's an adorable chubby one. Round and pale, with dark patches, just like a panda! When I met his mother at the Mother's Day party we threw, I was shocked. How did he come out of a tiny thing like her?? And then, my reason returned and I remembered that Little Panda wasn't always so round and chubby. Even the fattest man in the world (currently in Mexico, I think at 1200 lbs) started out as a tiny little newborn babe. 

The greatest thing about Little Panda is, like the gentle giant of stories of yore, he's quite sweet and gentle- you can see it in his huge, dark eyes even. It's almost funny when he cries because he's so much bigger than the rest of the kids, it seems like nothing should be able to hurt him. But of course, as REM sang, "Everybody Hurts," even kids like Little Panda. He has not cried often, but the most memorable time was that one day he didn't look too well. All day, his big eyes looked worried, the corners of his lips were turned down slightly, and his arms cuddled his pudgy stomach. 

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" I kept asking, modeling sickness with my body and asking in Kurdish just in case he didn't understand.

He kept denying it, but I finally figured out that he was indeed feeling ill, but didn't want me to find out because then I would send him to the doctor. Little Panda was afraid of the doctor. The doctor stuck needles where needles did not belong, in his opinion. I tried to coax him into getting out of his seat and to the doctor's office with smiles, words, pats on the back, rubs on the stomach, and all the enticement I could think of. But honestly, there's nothing really enticing about going to the doctor for a kid who has yet to learn about "mind over matter" or "no pain no gain". Besides Alzheimer's patients, little kids are the most successful at seizing the moment and living in the present. The future? Who cares how much better it will be?

So he stayed put. How do you make a bull budge? This was no philosophical inquiry, nor was it a riddle with a witty punchline. Whenever I tried to pull his arm toward the door, he started making crying noises. Finally, with no choice left but force, I crouched down with my back to him and loaded the bull onto my back, no joke. Heaving and breathing heavily and bent over from the enormous weight on my own not-so-enormous back, I carried him piggy-back style to the door, kicked open the door (the other kids loved that), and heaved him into the hallway towards the doctor's office. He was crying all the while. 

15 minutes later, he was back in his chair in the classroom, smiling and no longer holding his stomach looking like he was gonna hurl any second. See, that wasn't so bad, was it Little Panda?